So, I amused Sarah.
It was all I could do.
She made me little clothes and shoes and put me on top of the radio and turned on the music and said, "Dance, little one! Dance, my dunce! Dance, my fool!" Well, I couldn't collect my unemployment compensation so I danced on top of the radio while she clapped her hands and laughed.
You know, spiders frightened me terribly and flies were the size of giant eagles, and if a cat ever caught me it would torture me like a small mouse.
But life was still dear to me.
I danced and sang and hung on.
No matter how little a man has he will find that he will always settle for less.
When I shit on the rug I would get spanked.
Sarah put little pieces of paper around and I shit on them.
And I ripped off little pieces of that paper to wipe my butt with.
It felt like cardboard.
I got hemorrhoids.
Couldn't sleep nights.
Feelings of inferiority, of being trapped.
Paranoia? Anyhow, I felt good when I sang and danced and Sarah let me have my beer.
